


Lotus Blossoms in the Spring

by John_Cribati



Category: Naruto
Genre: Self-Insert/Original Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:19:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3835018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_Cribati/pseuds/John_Cribati
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The worst part about reincarnation into this world is not how much it's been done already. Not the fact that I haven't finished the series.</p>
<p>It's the pink hair.</p>
<p>Seriously, fate can kiss my ass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lotus Blossoms in the Spring

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly written in first-person, but on certain occasions, a third-person narrator will take over for a scene or two. I'll use a line breaks to denote narrators. -R- is in the point of view of the main character, and -N- Is in the Point of View of the Third Person Narrator. Any regular old line break just means I'm continuing from the same point of view.

-N-

Childbirth is touted as the most painful and uncomfortable experience one can endure. And few people can argue the fact. However, one young man could suggest that being born would probably be high up on that list, too. Maybe third or fourth.

It was one thing to force oneself through a gap that just barely accommodated you. It's another to get pushed out through an orifice in someone's body, with all the muscles and bodily fluids and that little bit of your mother's shit that has to get on you so you can have your own intestinal bacteria. Then the fact that at least one person in the room is screaming and that's the first thing you hear.

Of course, at the time, the boy didn't know he was being born. He was aware of the squeezing and the yelling and the stickiness, but didn't put it together until someone dried him off and set him on a blanket. He realized that he couldn't sit up, or speak, or see very well.

And so came his first coherent thought in this slightly new world:

_It's almost like I'm a baby again._

And the second:

_Fuck._

_-R-_

I try to calm down and listen to the happenings in the emergency room, but I don't understand what anyone's saying. Not just because of the discordant yelling. The fact that everything's in a completely different language seems to be a thing as well.

It's Japanese. I recognize a couple phrases. 'Yamete'— stop. 'Itai'— general exclamation of pain. Lots of '-chans' and '-sans' and '-kuns' — honorifics. All sorts of things I picked up watching… anime.

A silly, idiotic thought runs through my head, but I shake it away. I mean, maybe reincarnation is a thing, and I was somehow reborn with all of my memories, but into a fictional universe? Aren't there about seven hundred stories with that plot by now? I expected my dreams to be more... I don't know, _original_.

A presence hovering over me draws my attention, and the blanket I'm laying on stretches slightly as another person is placed next to me. I try to rub the blur out of my eyes, but the person above me grasps my arm and places a some kind of cloth sock over my hand. Or would that make it a mitten? I look up at him, but it's all just colors and blurs without any sort of cohesion.

My attention returns to the baby beside me. My twin, by the looks of things. So I'm a big brother.

Or am I?

It takes a minute— my infant nervous system is still kinda new— but I manage to manually confirm that I am, in fact a big brother, as opposed to a big sister. I'd rather not use the same technique to find my sibling's sex. Pun not intended in  _any way imaginable_. 

I'm aware of someone hovering over me again, a different someone, just in time for them to put their hand on my forehead. It's tough and rough and callused, but warm and soothing and I have no idea who this is but I just know that I'm safe and secure and oh my god  _this is actually real_  because there's way more to this than I think my mind can replicate.

"Ren," a man says, his tone solemn.

The thought of my twin being named "Stimpy" crosses my mind, and I can't help but giggle a bit.

The man— my father?— says some more words that I guess are supposed to be a blessing, then I sort of feel his focus shift to my sibling.

"Sakura."

Still gender-neutral (unless  _Bludgeoning Angel Dokuru-Chan_  lied to me) but the thought of another, far more well-known character with that name makes me turn my neck- over the course of what seems like forever- to take a look at them.

I still lack any sort of clarity, but there's a mess of pink where the baby's head should be.

... There's more than one pink-haired Sakura, right? I mean, come on, the name means _Cherry Blossom_ ; there's probably tons.

I can't think of any.

This is _Naruto_ , and I am royally screwed.

Couldn't fate could have at least put me in an anime I  _finished_?

* * *

Maybe the first time I was a baby I was totally intrigued by the fact that I have hands, or the direction wind blows,or seven million other things. Or maybe I blocked it all out because trauma that is being fired out of a woman's uterus took precedence. But now?  _Boring_. I don't have to _do_ anything. No obligations except to eat and sleep, cry, and try to pick up the language.

Which is surprisingly easy when you combine the natural intuition of a baby with the intelligence of a college graduate. I already understood the general idea of Japanese grammar and sentence construction. I just need to learn the words.

And infant minds are physically built to be impressionable, so learn I do. Of course, most of it's your standard baby care stuff— 'time to change your diaper,' 'here's your bottle,' 'peek-a-boo,' and such— but words are words and I could just understand that these  _sounds_  had  _meanings_  to them and then it just sort of falls into place.

And it works the same way with chakra. It might have to do with it being something I never had to deal with before, but once I feel that first little rush through what must be my coils, I begin to notice that it's  _everywhere_. Everything, from the grass to the rocks to the squirrels and trees and flowers. It all gives off chakra, and I can sense its flow. I can't actually _do_ anything with it yet (god, could you imagine?), beyond making it move marginally faster or slower in my own body, but I can sense when my parents are around, or when someone new comes to visit.

Wait, wasn't chakra control Sakura's thing? I remember that she was (or will be, or whatever) able to do the tree climb on her first attempt, something even Sasuke took a couple of days to get down properly. Maybe it's something like a clan technique (except she's a civilian, of course), and that's why it comes so easy to me. Not a dōjutsu, but it's better than nothing.

At least I know where to take my shinobi career.

What? I'm a main character's relative. _Not_ being a ninja just puts me in the line of fire. I refuse to go the way of the Red Shirt. 

* * *

Hey, it's October 10.

If not for the reincarnation thing, I would have turned 24 yesterday. Or the equivalent of yesterday on my calendar.

Instead, I'm literally shitting myself, and more than normal because _the fucking Kyuubi is, like, right fucking there_. It's presence is just so thick and stifling that I can't feel anything else and this sense that I was working so hard to establish is just completely useless now. I can barely move, the killing intent is so strong, and breathing becomes physically painful to my months-old, chakra-sensitive lungs.

It really, really sucks.

Also I'm going to have to look into the fact that I can be so damn  _coherent_ when my body is otherwise shutting itself down with panic.

* * *

I see myself for the first time when I'm seven or eight months old, with Mom holding me up to the mirror.

That's also when I say my first two words:

"The  _fuck_?"

My hair is _pink_. Bright, loud, hot, pink. Aggressively homosexual pink. 

Because the words are in English, though, my mother misunderstands. She gives my abdomen a little, tickling poke. "No, not Sakura, Ren. That's  _you_."

"My hair looks stupid," I tell her, forgetting that the notion is a bit too, well,  _complete_  to be an eight-month-old's first spoken thought. "I wanna cut it."

It takes months for mom and dad to officially give up trying to convince me that my hair is "handsome."

* * *

Note to self: making yourself out to be a child genius is tiring. Since my first words were an actual grammatically correct sentence and all, my parents wasted no time teaching me things. Which isn't really a bad thing. I can already read simple children's books (I was surprised at one point that a book for toddlers would straight-up say that the Yondaime  _killed_  the Kyuubi, but then I realized hello,  _Ninja Village_ ), and they're teaching me how to write calligraphy (the "help me write" books mostly involve naming ninja tools). I've even started walking with the slight chakra assistance I'm able to manage now that my coils have their act together. I also potty-trained myself before my parents could buy a single pull-up.

Sakura's baby intelligence is almost enough to keep up with my prior experience. It's probably that "advancing your own maturity to match your precocious peer" thing kids tend to do, but it's still hella scary. She's still stuck on crawling for now, but she's mostly out of diapers, can recognize some katakana and hiranaga, and has even caught on to the basics of chakra, without me having to tell her.

And to think all this potential goes to waste because of an obsession with Sasuke. Have to kill that one before it starts, or else convince her that Sasuke would like her more if she were a  _competent_  kunoichi, rather than a  _pretty_  one. 

Which… might actually be true.

While I'm mentally adding that idea to the Long List of Things to Change (Because Why Not?), the pink-headed blur herself barrels into me and puts me on my ass, then starts crawling over me. Despite not yet grasping the concept of 'walking,' Sakura is surprisingly good at knocking things over, people included. We roll around for a bit, and she ends up sitting on top of me. Turns out using chakra as a crutch hasn't left me much in the way of natural muscle development. Still, there's something oddly humbling about being wrestled into submission by your baby sister. Mom usually pulls us apart, but Dad just cheers, applauding Sakura for knowing how to protect herself. Traitor.

She beams down at me. "What you think 'bout, onii-kun?"

I don't bother correcting her. Besides the fact that our parents haven't really started us on honorifics, there isn't really anything wrong— at least, to my knowledge— with using that specific combination.

Plus... it's kinda cute. And maybe I've kind of got attached to her because I've spent every moment of my life so far withing ten feet of her. 

I shrug and gently pat her head. "Just that my nee-chan is a very smart and strong girl."

She giggles at the praise, then leans over to plant a kiss on my forehead.

Or just slobber all over my face.

That, however, is not cute. Babies are disgusting.

**Author's Note:**

> Well... this is a thing?  
> I dunno I just had ideas, okay?


End file.
